Felix Heidelnussen is a 265 year old gnome from the rural southern face of Defense Platform A0013 Designation Purity. As a boy, he spent his time wandering through caves and ravines, where he made good use of the natural acoustics by honing his yodeling talent. Since the early days, yodeling has been a tradition for southern gnomes. So much so, that a competition known as YodelFest is held annually, 9 times at which Felix has been crowned “YodelKonig”. However, as of late there has been trouble in paradise. After nearly thirty years of tax evasion, the gnomish authorities have caught up with Felix. He is taken to trial for his crime. In a stroke of good fortune, the Honorable Judge Fritzwick happens to be a fan of the southern Oom-Pah music, and recognizes the once great virtuoso. Rather than sentencing Felix to hard mining labor, the Judge assigns him to an earthbound FESA (Flatworld Exploratory Science Association) expedition known as the Flatworld Reconnaissance Brigade, acting as the gnomish cultural expert.

Bio:

Felix woke in a sweat, unable to find comfort in his once trusty hammock. It was still dark out. The sun would not fall from the Flatworld above for at least another hour. It had been 3 solid months of Terranaut training since his trial, and Jump Day was finally here. In just a few hours, Felix, and 6 other Terranauts would descend via slingshot & parachute, upon Flatworld above (or below if you were a NorthSider. This was a hotly debated topic among gnomish philosophers. Either way, Felix fould it all slightly terrifying).
In any case, he knew there would be no falling back to sleep now. The “Virtual Gravity Ankle-Weights” that he was begrudgingly required to wear at all times hit the floor with a heavy “thud” as he clambered out of bed. After a tired glance at his still unpacked Handy Haversack, Felix decided to fill his favorite coffee mug one last time. He caught a glimpse of his weathered reflection in the YodelFest trophy display case. “Look at yourself old-man. Life couldn’t be all Strudel and beer forever, could it?”
The shirts in the closet were mostly stained with puke from the Flatworld Hyper-Gravity Simulator. A merciless spinning tube-room that caused all who enter to nearly shit out their organs. Felix hated the damn thing, despite the enthusiasm of his ambitious young peers. The other Terranauts were generally cheerful, but Felix could not help but suspect that he was looked upon as a senior citizen. An emissary of the elderly, sent only to prattle on about tradition and the stories of old. Dispatched by an out of touch Judge with a certain lack of faith in the new generation. “What sort of geezer do they think I am? I am barely 265 years of age!”. The modern youth had lost touch with the old ways. The Hooga Dance, the Catching of the Moles, and most importantly the Yodel were all fading from the public eye. The once widely attended YodelFest was now held at a dusty BungleFlap Lounge (A place for drinking and playing the traditional ball and paddle game known as BungleFlap). Felix wondered if he would ever attend another YodelFest. Most likely not. It all seemed trivial. Where he was going, there would be no YodelFest. “To the people of Flatworld, my home is but a speck in the sky… treading across the horizon.” It was with this final thought that Felix finished his coffee, packed his Haversack, and caught the first TunnelTrain to FESA Launch Dock #6 for what he was sure would be his final adventure…